Truth and Consequences
by Karel
Summary: Bridger struggles emotionally with his behavior in the episode, Lostland,, and makes amends.


Truth And Consequences 

Takes places after the Lostland episode, with the helmet from Atlantis. 

Nathan Bridger shifted in his command chair, trying to find a comfortable position; only an hour left on the shift and then he could go get some dinner. He had just come back to active duty after the whole Atlantis adventure. Things were getting back to normal for him; he was feeling much better but his crew was acting . . . odd. 

The bridge was quiet, unusually so. People kept giving him sideways glances when they thought he wasn't looking. Tony Piccolo had all but run away when they had passed each other in the corridor. Ford had thrown himself into his duties and was constantly asking him if he was feeling better, doing his 'mother hen' routine. Even Lucas had been mysteriously absent for the last couple of days and hadn't even set a foot on the bridge since Bridger had come on duty. This was highly suspicious behavior for Lucas, who always liked to be in the thick of the action. Maybe the kid was sick. Bridger decided to go by his cabin when he got off duty. 

His memories from the past couple of days were hazy. He remembered the helmet and Professor Obatu and waking up with a tremendous headache. Wendy had told him that he and Ortiz had almost died. So far no one had taken the time to explain everything that had happened. Not that he hadn't asked. It was disturbing; the thought that his crew was keeping things from him. Ford was procrastinating with the UEO reports and promptness was Jonathan's middle name. 

He turned slightly to fix his gaze on his executive officer, who was deep in conversation with Piccolo. Tony's head was bowed and seemed to be doing most of the listening. Coming up from behind to join them, Bridger put his hand on Piccolo's arm. Tony jumped away from him like he had been burned. 

"Tony?" the captain questioned with surprise. Something strange was going on here. The look on Tony's face was a mixture of fear, guilt and sadness. It was time to get to the bottom of the story that the crew was keeping from him. "Ward room now, gentlemen." 

They had reassembled in the wardroom, with Tony and Ford seated at the table and Bridger pacing. 

"I would like a full report about the Atlantis incident, specifically my behavior and why everyone is being so uncommunicative about it." Bridger used 'his no nonsense, I really mean it voice'. 

Unfortunately, Ford was wearing his 'your not going to like it' face. "Sir, I respectfully request that Dr. Smith..." he began. 

"Now," Bridger said forcefully. 

With a glance at Piccolo, Jonathan told him about how Bridger's behavior had deteriorated after putting the helmet on, how obsessed he became with concealing their position, the shoot to kill order on Ortiz and how he ranted and raved at the bridge grew. "And then you slapped Tony across the face..." Ford trailed off as he saw the effect of these words on his captain. 

The statement was like a bucket of ice water in Bridger's face. It was bad enough to act like a hysterical maniac but to actually commit physical violence was an appalling act. The loss of self control was something that Bridger abhorred. He dropped into a chair next to Piccolo. 

"So I felt relieving you of command was the only option left to me," Ford finished his sentence. "Dr. Smith took you to Med Bay and had to restrain you and give you a sedative." 

"Tony, I am sorry. You must know that in normal circumstances..." Bridger started. 

"But Sir, I should have followed your orders, even if I didn't agree. If the commander hadn't stopped me I would have knocked you clear into Tuesday." The guilt in Tony's spoke volumes. 

Bridger shook his head in protest. "No, Tony, it's inexcusable for a commanding officer to lose control like that." 

"It just brought back memories from the last time," Tony said sadly. 

Bridger thought back to when Tony first came to the boat. He had been sent to jail for punching his commanding officer. What a nightmare to have it happen again. "Take a few days off. See Dr. Smith if you need anything." 

"Yes sir." Piccolo got up to leave but `stopped before he opened the door. "Sir, again, I'm sorry. You're the best captain I've served under and I wouldn't want to do something to hurt you." 

"Tony," the captain held up his hand to stop him. "You acted in self defense. It's my responsibility now and this will be the end of it." 

"Yes, sir." The door was closing as Piccolo quickly stuck his head back in. "Lucas was pretty shaken up when I last saw him, by your behavior. Maybe you could tell him everything's OK?" With that, the door shut. 

Bridger sighed and cradled his head in his hands. "How's Ortiz? How is he handling this?" he asked tiredly. 

Ford allowed himself a small smile. "He keeps complaining that everyone breaks into a sweat when he picks up a table knife, but seems to be back to normal." He wasn't sure how to proceed. The captain had been through a lot and while keeping the whole incident quiet had gone against his better judgment, they had all agreed that Bridger's mental health might be at stake. McGath had been ready to haul the Captain and Ortiz back to UEO headquarters for psychological exams. Ford shuddered at the thought. Dr. Smith had managed to convince McGath that it would be better for all concerned if she handled it on the boat. "About the reports, Sir; we thought it best that the UEO didn't know all the details, just the basics about the helmet discovery." He reached down to something on the chair beside him and placed a tape on the table. "This is the video tape from the security camera from that day on the bridge." He got up to leave. "It's the only copy." With that the commander left. 

The Captain sat for awhile, staring at the tape, thoughts whirling in his mind. His behavior appalled him. One thing he prided himself on was self control. Would the crew still respect him as their Captain? Could he still respect himself ? He needed some one to talk to, some one who was objective, to help him through his thoughts. There was one person, some one he hadn't talked to for some time. Someone he missed. 

"Nathan ! I haven't heard from you in ages. How are you?" Kristen Westphalen looked the same as he remembered her with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. She leaned into the screen, her eyes reflecting the frown forming on her face. "What's wrong? Is Lucas OK ?" 

He never could hide anything from her. Kristen could always read him like an open book. "Lucas is fine. It's ...me. We, I , well on our last mission... I don't even know where to start," he finally trailed off into silence, at a loss for words. 

"Nathan, I have always found that it's best to start at the beginning. Is this about the Atlantis discovery Lucas called me about? He told me that you weren't feeling well." 

With that, Bridger told her the whole story, about losing control, of losing faith in his command ability. When he finished, he leaned back, exhausted by the telling and was rather surprised when Kristen let out a small laugh. 

"Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't laugh," she apologized quickly when she saw his eyes and then she leaned back in her chair. "Nathan, honey, haven't you realized in all this time that you're allowed to be human? That you're only human, not some sort of god. Maybe I need to come back to the boat and take you down a notch. Those young officers of yours haven't built you a pedestal have they?" 

Nathan opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to digest this, not knowing what to say. 

Kristen looked him in the eyes, serious and all business now. "Jonathan and the others are trying to help you, protect you. Dr. Smith did some fast talking to keep you and Miguel on the boat. Lucas called me, half out of his mind with worry, not knowing how to help you. They haven't lost faith in you, they still respect you, value you as their captain. Trust yourself, Nathan and cut yourself a break. You would do that if this had happened to one of your crew." 

Nathan sat back, rubbing his beard, letting the doctor's words sink in. "Doctor, how come you always know the right thing to say?" 

"It's my job, Captain, just doing my job." Kristen gave him a wink and a smile. "Feeling better now?" 

The Captain picked up the security tape and threw it across the room so it smashed against the wall and fell onto the floor in pieces. "I'm feeling better now. I guess I should go check on Lucas, let him know that I'm back to my old self. I'll call you again next week." After Kristen said goodbye, he hit the disconnect button and headed out the door. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The boat was quiet, on night shift and most of the crew was asleep. He knocked quietly on Lucas' door, waited a few minutes, and had decided to leave and come back in the morning when the door opened. Lucas stood in his robe, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The teen took a step back and woke up quickly when he saw who his visitor was. 

"Um, Captain, ah, Dr. Smith said you were feeling better," the teen managed to stammer out. 

"I'm sorry, I know it's late. May I come in?" The captain asked quietly. 

"Oh, yeah, sure" Lucas shoved some books off a chair. "You can sit here, if you want." 

Bridger sat down and watch the teen, who was moving around the small cabin with nervous energy, fiddling with CDs, clothes, other things that were laying around, looking at everything except the Captain. 

"Ford told me what happened, about my behavior," Bridger started. 

The teen interrupted him. "Are you leaving the SQ," he asked bluntly, staring at the wall to the right of Bridger's head. 

"Do you think I should?" 

"Some of the crew said you might, if you found out what happened. They say McGath may pull you for ...hitting Tony and ordering Brody to shoot Ortiz." The teen dropped his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. " My mother use to act like that, when she was drunk, she said all sorts of crazy stuff, yelling and threatening everyone." He looked up and finally looked at Bridger."Do you really want me in uniform, to not be on the bridge?" 

"Is that what I said?" At the teen's nod, Bridger grasped the boy's shoulder and turned him gently to him. " I wasn't myself and what ever I said, I didn't mean. You've proven yourself invaluable to this boat, to me, many times over. I'm sorry you had to see me irrational like that, I wish you hadn't, but it happened and it's over now." He shifted his hand from the boy's shoulder and cupped his hand to the teen's cheek to look him in the face. He was moved by the trust he saw there. "You're stuck with me, kid, and you better get this room picked up tomorrow or I'll send Commander Ford in for an official inspection." 

Lucas gave a relieved smile at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere and seemed to relax a little. "What happened, wasn't your fault, it was that stupid curse. We almost lost you and Ortiz too. That was the really scary part." 

" Thankfully, we both survived, thanks to Dr. Smith and Dr. Obatu. You should get back to sleep and things will seem a lot better tomorrow." He headed out the door, saying good night, leaving a relieved teenager in his wake. 

Back in his quarters, the captain poured himself a glass of scotch. He normally wasn't a heavy drinker but it would help keep the nightmares away that he knew would plague his sleep that night. 

----Karel Black 1999 


End file.
